


safe

by realmsoffreedom



Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 10:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12057066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: Awsten hurts his knee while playing basketball, and Geoff is an angel.





	safe

**Author's Note:**

> So I was watching an interview and Awsten said he had a scar on his knee from a surgery, and thus, this was born. I'm pretty sure he didn't tear his ACL and meniscus IRL, and I'm definitely sure it didn't happen while on tour, so take that as my own creative freedom. :P
> 
> There's a lot of talk about anxiety in this, but nothing too bad. I just thought I'd mention it. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Awsten is ready. 

They haven’t had a day off in so long, too busy playing shows and doing interviews and working in the studio to finish their second album. It’s been a whirlwind and he’s barely had the chance to breathe, let alone do something that’s just… _fun_. 

Not that writing music and playing shows and doing interviews isn’t fun, but there’s always that niggling anxiety of are the fans gonna like this, is he gonna fuck up, what if he says something horrible, that keeps him from thoroughly enjoying himself. On days like this, when they’re off and have nothing to do, he revels in the comfort of just being able to be _Awsten_ , not Awsten Knight, not the frontman of Waterparks, not a genius lyricist, just Awsten.

Maybe Awsten and Geoff, rather than just Awsten, but that’s arguably more relaxing. The fans don’t know about his relationship with Geoff so hiding is always a chore. He makes it a point to seem closer to Otto in interviews for the simple fact that he lacks any and all self-control. If he directs his attention to Geoff he’ll be curling up under his arm, resting his head on his shoulder, kissing his neck…he doesn’t have the restraint and Geoff knows it so they’ve both agreed to be a little distant in public. 

It’s not that they’re ashamed of their relationship. He loves Geoff and he’d stand on any rooftop and scream it to the world. It’s just that when two band members are dating and dating publicly, every interview, every question, everything becomes about their relationship. They’ve got a good thing going right now, only doing interviews that ask about the music. He doesn’t want it to turn into a bunch of Gawsten questions with Otto as the awkward third wheel. 

Otto has a girlfriend but the entire thing is painfully awkward so it’s not brought up very much. Even thinking about it has Awsten’s stomach turning because the way things ended wasn’t good and somehow she thought jumping from one band member to the next would be a brilliant idea. He wants Otto to be happy, but seeing his ex so much after their messy breakup isn’t pleasant. On the bright side, it makes for a lot of really good songs.

But none of that matters today. Today is his day to do what he wants with, whether that be kissing Geoff until their lips fall off, working out because goddamn it makes him feel good, loading up on all the HEB orange juice he can possibly drink…the world is his motherfucking oyster and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of it. 

So Awsten is ready. He’s ready to play basketball and fucking kill it and maybe kick Geoff’s ass a little. Okay, a lot.

“I only wanna stay for a little while,” Geoff says, bouncing the ball up and down. “Jack invited me for drinks tonight and I don’t wanna be too tired.”

Awsten rolls his eyes. Geoff’s friendship with Jack is amusing because the only reason they’re so close to begin with is alcohol. Geoff’s a known affectionate drunk who never fails to tell his life story when he’s wasted, so Jack knows everything from his semi fucked up childhood to how he and Awsten have sex. 

He was _not_ laughing when he found out. “If Barakat gets anymore details about our sex life I’ll personally castrate you.”

“He deserves to suffer,” Otto grumbles, shoving his phone in his pocket and holding out his arms for the ball. “At least he doesn’t have to listen to it almost every fuckin’ night. I’m so fuckin’ sick of it.”

Geoff grins. “You wouldn’t. You love it, especially when I do that thing where-”

“What did I _just_ say?” Otto growls, grabbing the ball from him. “Let’s fuckin’ do this before I castrate both of you.”

He dribbles up to the basket and takes a (bad) jump shot that leaves him falling on his ass in a mess of laughter. The ball goes flying and Awsten jumps up to catch it. 

“You two versus me?” He asks, bouncing the ball between his legs. “So I can kick both your asses at the same time.”

“If you really thought you could maybe you’d spend more time doing it and less time trash talking.”

“I’ll fuckin’ show you.”

The game really starts, and Awsten goes all out, trying to block every shot and intercept every pass. He leaps for jump shots and runs for layups, even trying to make some three pointers. They don’t go in but he gets close. 

He goes up for another jump shot, and that’s when things go wrong. It happens in a matter of seconds, so fast it feels like a blur. One minute he’s in the air and the next he’s on the ground with his knee in a very awkward position and white-hot pain everywhere.

He heard the pops. He heard his knee pop when he hit the ground and that’s how he knows that what just happened is not good. 

The pain is everywhere, and it is burning. It’s all he feels. He can’t focus on anything else. He can’t feel anything in his leg other than pain, enough to make his stomach churn and bring tears to his eyes.

“Holy shit!”

“Aws, you okay?”

He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. It hurts. It hurts worse than anything in his entire life, easily breaking 10 and even 20 on the pain scale. He feels sick. Having a burrito for lunch really wasn’t a good idea.

“Awsten? Talk to me babe, what hurts?”

He opens his mouth but no words come out. A hand lifts his chin up, and he blinks, looking at Geoff through tear-filled eyes. A sob tears its way of out his throat and then he’s crying, reaching for his knee with a scream of pain.

“It’s his knee, dumbass.” Otto kneels beside them and puts a hand on Awsten’s shoulder. He flinches. The touch burns. His entire body feels like it’s on fire even though it’s just his knee. 

“Oh shit, it’s already startin’ to swell…”

“What do we do?”

“Call an ambulance.”

“No!” Awsten’s alert at this, heart hammering in his chest. An ambulance means doctors and hospitals and needles and pain and nonono. He just wants to go home. It’s fine. He’ll ice it and rest a couple days and he’ll be fine. There’s no need for a hospital. “M’fine, no, please…”

“You’re _crying_ , Awsten. We all heard it pop. You’re not fine,” Otto replies. “You might need surgery.”

The nausea overwhelms him and suddenly he’s turning his head away to puke onto the grass, tears streaming down his cheeks as he heaves. Every shift, every movement feels like walking barefoot across a thousand hot coals. 

“Hey baby, breathe, okay?” Hands press a tissue to his mouth when he finishes, and a body scoots closer, melding with his to wrap their arms around him. He melts into Geoff and buries his face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt.

Fuck.

…

“We needa get him to the hospital, Geoff.”

Awsten tenses in his arms at the mention of it, and Geoff sighs. Awsten’s still sitting in the same position as when he fell, legs splayed out awkwardly and knee bent unnaturally. He’s only been moving his upper body but Geoff can tell even that hurts from the twisted look on his face.

“He hates hospitals,” Geoff says regretfully, lifting a hand up to begin rubbing Awsten’s back gently. It’s true. Awsten’s always hated hospitals. He’s a pretty anxious person in general, often hidden by sarcastic comments and a persona of fake confidence. But hospitals, doctors, needles…anything remotely related to that has him terrified, on the verge of a panic attack, unable to calm himself down. 

“His knee is-”

“I know, okay?” Geoff mutters. “I know. He has to go.” He drops his voice down to a whisper. “Call 911. And maybe run and let Jack and the others know, okay?”

Otto nods, making his way off the court with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Geoff breathes a sigh of relief. That’ll keep him away for a while. The purpose was twofold; get help for Awsten, but also get Otto away so Geoff can try and diffuse the oncoming panic attack.

Awsten lifts his head, having wiped his nose on Geoff’s shirt. He fights back the urge to roll his eyes because his boyfriend’s in agony and that deserves a free pass. Even if his knee wasn’t fucked up, the look on his face would get him one anyway. Red eyes, tearstained cheeks, swollen skin…he’s a mess and it breaks Geoff’s heart.

“Hey.” He tilts his head and kisses Awsten chastely. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

“It hurts so bad,” Awsten chokes out, and his voice is raw and cracking. “M’so scared…”

As if his heart wasn’t broken before. He pecks Awsten’s lips and squeezes him tight. “I know you are, Aws. I know. But I’m gonna be there every step of the way, okay? I’m not leaving you.”

“Promise?” He looks so adorably innocent. Geoff’s heart swells three sizes because fuck, he loves this boy so much. 

“I promise.”

…

Geoff’s grip on his hand is the only thing keeping him sane.

People are poking and prodding at his knee, doing all sorts of things to it. All of it hurts and he wants to scream. He can’t stop crying. 

“Geoff…” He knows he’s pathetic. He knows he’s a huge fucking baby and he should be better than this. He’s crying for no reason and it’s so stupid. Hospitals just freak him out beyond belief. The lack of control is terrifying. That’s why he doesn’t drink. He doesn’t know what he’s capable of and he doesn’t want to lose control. But in this situation…his body isn’t his. He’s in the hands of strangers, and who knows what they could do.

“I’m right here Aws.” Geoff brings his hand to his lips. “I’m here. You’re okay.”

“It hurts.”

“I know, but you’re doing great, okay? We’re almost there.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on Geoff’s voice in his ear, whispering sweet nothings as he rubs his hand. He tries to focus on his happy place, tries to imagine himself in bed with Geoff where they’re safe and protected from the world. 

It works until they get to the hospital, until he’s lifted out of the ambulance and wheeled through the doors with Geoff running alongside, only tightening the grip on his hand. 

It works until they announce that he needs emergency surgery and Geoff can’t come any farther.

The tears start again, pouring down his cheeks. He bites his lip and meets Geoff’s eyes, reaching for him helplessly. “Geoff…”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Geoff assures him. “You’re gonna be fine Aws.”

He leans forward and pulls him into his arms. Awsten inhales deeply, breathing in Geoff’s cologne and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“I love you,” Geoff tells him, kissing him softly. “You’re gonna be okay. And I’ll be there when you wake up, I promise.”

…

Geoff is pacing.

Awsten’s been in surgery for a little over an hour. They said it shouldn’t be more than two, but they have to reconstruct his ACL and repair a tear in his meniscus so Geoff isn’t optimistic. He could be in there for longer, there could be complications…any number of things could go wrong and he’s just so fucking scared.

The look on Awsten’s face was heartbreaking. There’s not a lot he’s scared of, but hospitals, doctors, needles…that’s the top of the list. They make him anxious and he needs someone there and the fact that he can’t be is even worse.

They have to drop out of the tour. There’s no way Awsten can play with his knee all fucked up. It’s a shitty situation, but he’s not as disappointed as he thought he’d be. Part of him is looking forward to what’s going to happen after this. Part of him is looking forward to staying in bed with Awsten, watching movies and having lazy days, reveling in each other’s company. The uninterrupted time with Awsten is the only thing making this bearable. 

“How long’s it been?”

“An hour and a half,” Geoff says, not looking up. They’re sitting in the emergency waiting room, him and Otto along with Alex and Jack. It’s an outpatient procedure, so Awsten can go home after surgery, but Alex and Jack insisted on tagging along to make sure things were okay. The gesture is sweet, but it’d seem more genuine if they weren’t using the time to act like they’re in the running for most disgusting couple.

“Awsten Knight?”

The doctor comes over to them, pulling off his scrub cap and shoving it into his pocket. He runs a hand through his hair and gives them a smile. “It went very well. He’s stable and resting, and you can take him home as soon as he wakes up.”

“Fuck,” Geoff breathes, tears pricking his eyes. He knew it’d be fine, but the words are everything. “Can-Can I see him?”

“Of course you can. Follow me.”

Geoff makes a move to follow, but at the last second turns and looks back at Otto, Alex, and Jack. They probably want to see Awsten too, but he really wants a few moments alone with him.

“Go ahead,” Otto tells him. “We’ll give you guys some time, maybe hang around the gift shop or something.”

He’s led down a series of hallways, into a room titled appropriately, ‘recovery’. There are four beds, one in each corner. Two are empty. The curtain is closed around the one closest to the door, and Awsten is resting in the other one. 

He’s wearing a hospital gown and his left arm is connected to an IV. His left knee is bandaged and braced, elevated on a stack of pillows. Seeing him in a hospital bed hurts, but the peaceful smile on his face is comforting.

“He should be waking up soon. He may be nauseous or dizzy. It’s normal. Those are side effects of the anesthesia. Press the red button on the remote when he does wake up though, so we can get him some crutches and get him out of here.”

Geoff nods and waits until he leaves the room before he collapses in the chair beside Awsten’s bed and grabs his hand. He brings it up to his lips with a sigh. “I love you. I love you so much.”

…

Someone is talking to him.

He’s groggy and unsure of what they’re saying but someone is talking to him. He blinks, wincing because goddamn, the light fucking _burns_. 

“Geoff…?”

“Hey baby. How are you feeling?” Geoff squeezes his hand with a smile. He looks around the room, and then it all starts coming back to him. Basketball, falling, oh god, his fucking knee…

Awsten grimaces, shifting. “Tired…kinda nauseous.”

“The doctor said that’s normal.” Geoff stands and leans forward, kissing his cheek. “You scared me.”

“M’sorry.”

“Otto’s outside, and Jack and Alex are here too. D’ya wanna see them?”

Awsten shakes his head sleepily, holding out an arm. “Just you.” He wants Geoff. He wants Geoff to lie with him and hold him because he feels safest when he’s in Geoff’s arms. “Lay with me.”

Geoff hesitates. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you…”

“You won’t,” Awsten assures him. “M’so drugged, don’t feel anythin’…” He scoots over slightly, as to further his point. With his body pressed against the rail of the bed, Geoff has enough space to curl in next to him, and he does just that, squeezing his body into the tiny space and then pulling Awsten into his arms.

Awsten is really anxious. He doesn’t usually feel completely safe anywhere. He’s semi-comfortable, able to function, hold a conversation without panicking, but he never feels completely safe. Even on stage, he’s still worried about what people think and he knows it’s pointless but it’s part of him.

But being here, with Geoff, burying his face in his chest and closing his eyes, he feels safer than he’s ever felt in his entire life, protected and cared for, like he can finally breathe again.

And that makes this hell a little more bearable.

…

“We’re _not_ dropping out of the tour.”

“We have to! You’re on crutches! You can’t play like that!”

“So get me a fuckin’ chair! I can still sing!”

“You just had knee surgery, Awsten! You needa rest!”

“I _need_ to finish this tour!”

“Hey, breathe.” Geoff rubs Awsten’s back gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You can’t work yourself up like this. You just had surgery, baby.”

Awsten grumbles something incoherent under his breath and turns his face into Geoff’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna drop out…”

“I know,” Geoff whispers back. “But you need to calm down, okay?” The only reason Awsten’s able to function as well as he is is because of the narcotics. They’re not giving him anymore, so when the drugs wear off he’s gonna be in a world of pain. Working himself up is only gonna make that worse. 

Otto’s an idiot. Why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to bring up the tour already? He knows Awsten. He knows how fucking stubborn he is. What part of him thought this was a good idea? Awsten doesn’t need anymore stress right now.

“I kinda agree with Otto,” Alex says. “And didn’t the doctor say you wouldn’t even be able to put weight on it for two weeks? You can’t play shows like that man.”

“What if you took off a few shows to rest for a week,” Jack suggests. “And then see if you can do it sitting down and singing, and if you can’t then you’ll drop out.”

Awsten sighs. “I guess…”

“And you gotta be honest about how you’re feeling,” Geoff adds. “None of this ‘I’m fine’ when you really aren’t bullshit. If your knee hurts, it hurts. That’s okay. You’re not sacrificing your recovery to play.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Awsten mutters. “When can I get outta here?”

…

They manage to pull some strings and get a hotel room in the city they’re at for the night, which is a godsend, because there was no way he was trying to maneuver crutches through a cramped tour bus.

The painkillers have officially worn off and he is in agony. Whatever they say about knee surgery being a bitch is beyond true. It’s swelling and throbbing and the brace hurts and the bandages itch and he kinda wants to cry in frustration and maybe rip his leg off and throw it at a wall because it’s really inconveniencing him right now.

And of course, Geoff is the angel as he always is, but Awsten’s hurting and grumpy and cranky and bitchy as fuck because of it. He hates being an ass to Geoff but he can’t help it. Otto is pointedly avoiding him but Geoff’s too nice to do that so he gets stuck with Awsten’s constant temper tantrum.

“Just a little further babe, almost there.” Geoff’s got both hands hovering just inches from his waist, ready to catch him if he falls. Good thing too, he’s so tired and not used to the crutches yet so he’s stumbling all over the place. 

“Fuck this,” he grounds out through gritted teeth. This is his life for the next two weeks, until he can start weight bearing. He’s gotta get used to it. 

It _hurts_. 

Crutching hurts and his knee throbs and he’s still kinda nauseous from the fucking anesthesia, so basically everything is going wrong and the lump in his throat is proof of it. He’s on the verge of tears, trying desperately to swallow them back because goddamn Geoff’s had to deal with enough already.

He finally reaches the bed and hands his crutches to Geoff, balancing on his good leg nervously. Geoff’s hands plant firmly on his waist as he helps him into the bed. Awsten winces. There’s no painless way to do this. Moving his leg hurts like hell.

Geoff reaches over and grabs two pillows from the other bed. “Aws, I gotta lift it, okay? It’s gonna hurt, brace yourself.”

“Just do it.”

And it does.

It hurts like a motherfucker and he says as much, muttering every curse in the book as Geoff slides the pillows under his leg. He slumps back against the headboard, closing his eyes. This day has felt like eternity. 

“Alright, babe? How do you feel?” Geoff crouches next to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just you,” Awsten mumbles tiredly. “And maybe a trashcan.”

Geoff clicks his tongue in sympathy. “Still nauseous?”

Awsten groans. “It’s gotten worse.”

Geoff plops the trashcan on the nightstand in between the two beds. Awsten watches as he disappears into the bathroom and comes back out dressed in pajamas, wielding an ice pack. 

“You are a gift to the fuckin’ world, I love you.” Awsten practically moans as Geoff climbs onto the other side of the bed and rests the ice on his knee. “Fuck, that feels amazing.”

“Enjoy it for the next twenty minutes,” Geoff smirks. “It’s twenty off, twenty on, remember? So you don’t fuck some other shit up in your knee.”

“Because that would be terrible,” Awsten mutters. “Not like it’s not already fucked up or anything.” 

Geoff wraps an arm around his shoulders and he shifts his upper body slightly to press against him. Geoff kisses the side of his head and he closes his eyes, turning into Geoff’s shoulder.

“Sleep, baby. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

…

Geoff is startled awake, and when he realizes why, his own stomach churns and his heart starts to race.

Awsten is throwing up.

He’s got the trashcan in his lap and he’s puking violently into it, eyes squeezed shut but tears still streaming. The sight is heartbreaking and horrifying at the same time, and Geoff knows it’ll be permanently engrained in his brain.

He tightens his arm around Awsten’s shoulders and wishes he could rub his back and pull him into his chest like he usually would, but all of those things involve disturbing his knee which is out of the question.

“I’m here, Aws. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

The sweet words mean shit and he knows it, but they at least make him feel a little better. There’s not much else he can do, at this point. 

After a good five minutes, Awsten lifts his head. Geoff reaches over him to grab a tissue box and wipe his mouth for the second time in less than 24 hours. Awsten’s head flops onto his shoulder and his eyes slide shut, exhausted.

“You okay?” Geoff asks gently, taking the trashcan and setting it down on the floor. He’ll clean it out later. His number one priority is making sure Awsten’s alright.

“That fucking hurt,” Awsten mumbles. “I dunno what happened. I just woke up and felt so sick…”

“That’s from the anesthesia,” Geoff reminds him. “They said it can make you nauseous up to 24 hours after.”

“Fuck my life.”

“Do you think you’re done?”

Awsten nods sleepily. “Just wanna sleep.”

“Sleep.” Geoff tilts his head to kiss his hair. “I gotcha.”

…

The first day is most definitely the worst.

It hurts so much. The painkillers they gave him aren’t doing fucking _shit_. He couldn’t fall back asleep after his little vomiting episode and he’s so tired, but his stupid fucking knee is keeping him up and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s stuck like this.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until tears are falling down his chin and clinging to his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He hates this. He wants it to be a dream, a terrible nightmare he’ll wake up from.

“Aws? Shit babe, what’s wrong? Do you need ice? More painkillers? The trashcan?”

“I can’t do this,” he chokes out, opening his eyes briefly to look at Geoff and closing them when he dissolves in another sob. “I can’t do this for six months. I can’t. It’s too much. I want it gone.”

Geoff says nothing. He slips an arm behind Awsten’s back and nudges him forward, and Awsten’s confused until he feels Geoff slide in behind him, slotting his legs around Awsten’s hips and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “Baby. I know it sucks. I know it hurts. It’s not fair and you don’t deserve it but you’ll get through it, I promise. And I’m gonna be here every step of the way.”

Jack was right. He does need the week of rest. The thought of going out on stage tonight stresses him out beyond belief, even if it is just sitting on a chair, singing and playing guitar. He doesn’t even think he can get out of bed.

“I don’t want this Geoff, I don’t,” Awsten cries. The tears just keep coming, until he’s soaked Geoff’s sleeve with liquid. “I want it to be a dream.”

“I’m sorry baby,” Geoff sighs. “I wish I could take it for you. I’d do it in a heartbeat. I hate seeing you cry.”

“You don’t want this,” Awsten says shakily, lifting his head and pressing his lips to Geoff’s sloppily. “It’s awful.”

“It’s worth it if you don’t have to deal with it.”

…

It sucks.

Watching Awsten in pain is the worst thing he’s ever had to do. He can’t bear it. The past week has been hard, full of tears and anger and frustration and of course, a lot of fucking pain.

Awsten’s knee is still swollen and he’s still in agony and he still needs god knows how many drugs to even be functional, which explains why Geoff is regretting his decision to compromise and let Awsten try a few shows. He’s in no state to do it but of course, he won’t admit that. He’s too fucking stubborn. 

To make matters worse, it’s his left knee and that’s the leg his guitar needs to rest on. Awsten’s trying, he’s trying _so hard_ and he’s _so determined_ to do this, but Geoff isn’t sure he should. 

He’s handed his own guitar while still lost in thought. He thanks their guitar tech half-heartedly and kneels beside Awsten’s chair.

“Are you _sure_ about this, Aws?” He smoothes Awsten’s light blue strands back and out of his face, pressing a kiss there. “There’s still time to cancel.”

“Geoff. It’s seven songs. Half an hour. I can do it. Stop worrying.” Awsten sends him one of his signature smiles, but as much as he wants to believe it, a niggling feeling in his gut tells him this isn’t going to end well.

…

They don’t run out like they usually do.

Geoff helps Awsten out onto the stage slowly, guitar turned to rest on his back as he does so. He knows the fans don’t know about their relationship and this isn’t going to help things, but there was no way he was letting anyone else do this. Awsten is _his_ boyfriend and he’ll be damned if he can’t even help him onto the stage.

“Hey guys!” Awsten says into the mic that’s been attached to his face, sitting down in the chair that’s been set up. They opted for that so he wouldn’t have to move around as much to sing into a regular microphone. “So, I know we’d usually start off with a song and not me yapping, but as you can see, I kinda fucked up my knee playin’ basketball with these two morons last Saturday, so this show’s gonna be a little different.”

The audience cheers loudly and the smile on Awsten’s face grows. “This one’s called Mad All The Time, sing along if you know it!”

They launch into the song, and Awsten seems fine, actually being able to play all the chords because he’s not jumping around to hype the audience up. Geoff can’t help gravitating toward center stage though. As much as Awsten’s said he’s fine, he won’t believe it if he doesn’t see it for himself.

They play Crave, and he almost forgets his solo because he’s so occupied with keeping an eye on Awsten. 

Everything’s going okay until Plum Island starts. The smile on Awsten’s face is beginning to fade and his voice is growing weaker. He looks almost white under the stage lights. He’s making a valiant effort to keep playing, but it’s obvious that he’s uncomfortable. 

Geoff isn’t sure what’s wrong. His heart is racing and his head is spinning, because Awsten’s growing weaker by the second and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll last.

He makes a decision right then and there. Turning his head, he glances back at Otto, who’s looking at him with the same worry in his eyes. They both stop playing at the same time, and just in time too, because Awsten stops too, although probably not because they did, considering his face is twisted in pain and his eyes are squeezed shut.

The next few moments are a blur. Geoff shoves his guitar at a tech and slides onto his knees, blocking the audience’s view of Awsten and looking up at him worriedly. He rips his in-ears out and grabs one of Awsten’s hands. “What’s goin’ on, baby? Talk to me.”

Otto’s trying desperately to rein in the crowd but it isn’t working. Geoff isn’t focused on that though, all he cares about is the boy in front of him who’s starting to shake visibly.

“I-It…it hurts,” Awsten whimpers. “It hurts so bad, I don’t know, I don’t know why…”

“It’s okay,” Geoff says, although the words are empty. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get you backstage and iced and you’ll be okay baby, I promise.”

“Need you,” Awsten chokes out, his voice breaking. “Can’t do this.”

“You’ve got me,” Geoff promises quickly. He reaches for Awsten’s guitar, helps him take it off and set it down on the stage. He knows what he’s about to do is not going to be well-received, but he’s past the point of caring.

He leans forward and slips an arm behind Awsten’s back and one under his thighs, careful not to go anywhere near his knee. He lifts him in one fluid motion, and Awsten helps a bit by hanging onto his neck and burying his face in his shoulder.

Geoff gets them backstage quickly, and sets Awsten down on one of the couches. He turns around, frantic and unsure. He needs ice. Ice and painkillers. One he gets some drugs into Awsten and ices his knee he’ll be okay.

He has to be.

“Um, guys?”

Otto joins them warily. “You know he’s still wearing a mic, right?”

Geoff freezes.

So they basically just outed themselves.

Fuck.

…

They drop out of the tour.

If the disaster of a show is any indication, Awsten’s in no state to go on. He needs rest. He needs to recover without the stress of touring and performing every night, and even he knows it by the end. That night was eye opening. He’s never been so humiliated and felt so weak in his entire life.

He genuinely thought he could do it. He thought he could stick it out, push through. The pain started during Hawaii, although it wasn’t as bad at first. He thought he could handle it. But it just kept getting worse and worse until it hit its climax during Plum Island and suddenly he was back on the court when it first happened and everything was falling apart.

If that wasn’t enough, they’re out to everyone now and it’s scary and unsettling and he feels more vulnerable and exposed than he ever has. He’s been avoiding social media ever since, Geoff too. This is exactly why he didn’t want to come out. He feels naked, exposed to everyone, his last secret out there for the world to know and judge like they do everything else.

So all in all, it’s been pretty shitty.

But now, here he is, in his childhood home with Geoff lying next to him and his leg propped up, kisses being pressed to the side of his head and an arm around his torso. 

“How mad d’ya think they’re gonna be?”

Geoff sighs and squeezes him tightly. “Don’t think about that now babe. Just focus on getting better.”

“Y’know,” Awsten murmurs. “It may not be that bad…now I can kiss you whenever I wanna kiss you and touch you whenever I wanna touch you…”

“I like the way you think,” Geoff says slyly, and Awsten turns his head to meet his lips in a kiss. “But seriously, if we get shit, we get shit. It’s okay. What we have is amazing and we’re not gonna let some strangers’ shitty opinions change that.”

“I love you,” Awsten says. “Thanks, y’know, for puttin’ up with me and my shitty stubborn self. I never shoulda tried to play…this never woulda happened if I’d just listened to everyone…”

“M’just glad you stopped,” Geoff tells him. “I thought you’d try to push through it and that’s what scared me.”

“I wanted to,” Awsten confesses ashamedly. “I really thought about it. But then we started Plum Island and it got too much and I just wanted to be in your arms, in bed, by ourselves. It wasn’t worth it anymore. I need this. I needa put myself first.”

“Took you long enough to realize that,” Geoff replies. “But m’glad you finally are. And hey, we get ta spend more time together.”

“Movies, my bed, and you,” Awsten murmurs. “All I fuckin’ need.”

“I love you.” 

Awsten leans in for another kiss, smiling into it. He pulls back, slightly breathless, grinning at Geoff’s kiss bitten lips. “I love you too.”

And so he settles back into Geoff’s arm, turning his attention to whatever movie’s playing on TV, breathing in Geoff’s scent, reminded of just how damn _lucky_ he is.

No matter what happens, he’ll always have Geoff. 

He’ll always be safe.

And that’s enough to get him through anything.


End file.
